


Multitudes

by Fallynleaf



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Connections across Time and Space, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22582741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallynleaf/pseuds/Fallynleaf
Summary: If wrestling is truly a medium of limitless possibilities, then maybe it is possible to have a match that transcends time and space.
Relationships: Ibushi Kota/Kenny Omega
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	Multitudes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place at the beginning of February after Kota recovers from the illness that took him off of the New Beginning in America tour in January, 2020.

_–What do you mean when you talk about the possibilities for pro-wrestling?_

_Ibushi: They’re infinite really, aren’t they? There’s so much that’s open in pro-wrestling. In more ways than one, you escape disqualifications if you break on a four count. We fight in a four sided ring, but there’s nothing stopping it being a circle, or a triangle. It’s different to any other sports, it has more potential than any other sport._

_–It can change, shape shift in a way._

_Ibushi: Right. This is a bit difficult to explain but… In pro-wrestling, it’s not impossible to beat an opponent without even touching them. I think it’s not entirely impossible to beat an opponent without even moving. It’s a hard thing to understand, but I really think there are more possibilities when it comes to doing what we do._

[ _DEC.31.2019_ ](https://www.njpw1972.com/68721)

* * *

The idea comes to him at the height of his fever. Maybe that should be a reason to dismiss or ignore it. But even as he starts to recover, Kota just can’t stop thinking about it. He gets well enough to start working out again, and then he’s back in the ring—his own personal ring—ready to shake off the rust.

As always, he’s alone.

“I know it’s been a long time,” Kota says. “And that you’ve got your own path, and you aren’t even here, but…” he trails off.

Maybe this is stupid. There are a lot of possibilities with pro-wrestling, but magically transcending the distance between countries probably isn’t one of them.

He continues anyway: “I want to be with you again. Just like this.”

It’s early in the morning for Kota, which means it’s in the evening in America. He wonders what Kenny is doing right now. Probably playing video games. Maybe he’s with Nak. An interruption like this would probably disrupt his plans for the evening. Kenny’s got responsibilities, now. It isn’t just constant fun and games like it used to be.

“Did you mean what you said?” Kota asks. “That no matter where you are, no matter which country you’re in, the Golden Lovers will always fight with the same emotion and one heart?”

He _feels_ more than _sees_ Kenny’s presence.

Kota’s breath stops, just for a moment. He has to remind himself to exhale.

 _“Of course I meant it,”_ Kenny says. _“I’ve never—I’ve never lied to you. Not about this, not about anything.”_

“Then let’s have a match,” Kota says. “Just something short to warm up.”

His mind supplies the sound of the bell.

He starts to circle around the ring, and he can feel Kenny circling with him. Kota reaches out with a hand, and his fingers feel electric as Kenny’s hand brushes against his.

Kota still can’t see him. He knows that Kenny isn’t really here with him. And yet…

“ _I miss you,”_ Kenny says. _“Every day, I miss you._ ”

Kota can’t say the words _I’m sorry_ out loud, so he tries to speak with his actions in the ring instead. It’s gentler than he’s ever wrestled before. Every movement is delicate, every touch a small plea for forgiveness.

The pressure of his body against the ghost impressions of Kenny’s body right alongside him.

 _“I’m here for you, you know. If you ever...”_ Kenny trails off.

His voice sounds sad. Kota doesn’t want him to be sad. He tries to act silly, clowning around until he can hear the echoes of Kenny’s laughter ringing in his ears.

For the first time in a long time, Kota feels happy and free, unburdened by his recent losses. He thinks if this is possible, then maybe he can do anything.

* * *

He comes back the next day. Kenny’s waiting for him then, too.

Kota’s smiling as soon as he can sense his presence. He steps over the ropes like it’s a dance.

_“It’s not the same, though, is it? Do you ever think about what we had?”_

_Always_ , Kota says, in every way but in words.

He ends up on his back in the center of the ring, staring up at the ceiling, and Kenny’s leaning over him, and the overhead lights are too bright, shining through Kenny right into Kota’s eyes.

* * *

Kenny’s there again the day after that.

They get off to a quick start this time. Kota’s recovery is going well. He’s starting to feel like his old self again, at home in his own body.

His kicks and strikes are fast and brutal. The chemistry between himself and Kenny in the ring is electric. It almost seems to hum through the air as the two of them move around each other.

Kota gets so caught up in it, he starts to climb up onto the turnbuckle to do a 450 splash, but falters once he gets all the way up to the top.

There’s the soft pressure of an arm around his shoulders, and all of the sudden, Kota needs to climb down before he tumbles off and injures himself. He leans up against the turnbuckle pad in the corner, breathing hard.

_“It’s alright. You’ll get it back someday.”_

Kenny is sitting there with him, his hand stroking Kota’s hair. It’s everything that Kota has ever wanted, but it’s immaterial; it isn’t enough.

* * *

By the fourth day, it has become a pattern.

Kota thinks that if he could walk into a ring and find Kenny waiting there for him every day for the rest of his career, that would be okay.

He knows that this isn’t sustainable. That he needs to be training with Tana instead of spending time grasping at illusions.

Kenny knows it, too. He brings it up during the lull after their usual sparring session.

_“Kota, you need to think about your dreams. What do you really want?”_

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Kota feels Kenny sigh rather than hears it.

_“I know. I don’t want to leave, either. But I’ll be there for you when you’re ready. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”_

This is a goodbye, then.

Kota closes his eyes. He feels the soft pressure of Kenny’s lips against his own. Kota wants to reach up and take Kenny’s head in his hands. He wants to hold onto him tight and never let go. But he knows that if he tries, his fingers will only grasp air.

There’s an infinity of moments in that kiss. It’s over too soon.

When Kota opens his eyes, he’s alone. He’s always been alone.


End file.
